At fifteen, I wasn’t chasing medals or dreaming about standing on podiums. What I wanted was far simpler: a way to combine my love for skiing with a steady job that would keep me close to the mountains. Becoming a ski instructor seemed like the perfect fit. What I didn’t realize then was how deeply that decision would shape my character, my discipline, and my view of the world.
Learning to Teach, Teaching to Learn
When I first signed up for instructor training, I thought it would be easy. I had natural talent on skis and assumed that would be enough. But teaching wasn’t just about carving perfect turns—it was about breaking down complex movements into simple steps, reading the needs of different learners, and having the patience to guide them through fear and failure.
The process humbled me. Suddenly, skiing wasn’t just about my own performance, but about helping others find joy and confidence on the slopes. I learned that the best instructors weren’t always the flashiest skiers. They were the ones who could connect with people, inspire them, and make the mountain feel like home.
The Road to Certification
I threw myself into training, pursuing my PSIA-AASI certifications with the same intensity as a professional athlete. Level I came quickly, but Level II demanded more precision, discipline, and hours of on-snow practice. Each test was grueling, forcing me to sharpen both my skiing and teaching abilities.
By the time I achieved my higher-level certifications, I had discovered something profound: teaching others was sharpening my own technique in ways I never expected. Every lesson, every question from a student, forced me to think critically about skiing mechanics. I wasn’t just instructing—I was evolving.
Challenges That Built Resilience
Being a ski instructor wasn’t glamorous. The hours were long, the pay modest, and the weather unforgiving. There were days when my body ached from cold winds and endless runs with beginners who fell more than they skied.
But those challenges built resilience. I learned how to show up with energy even on the hardest days, how to lead with patience, and how to celebrate small victories with my students. Watching someone link their first turns or conquer their first black diamond reminded me why I started: skiing is about joy, freedom, and growth.
Beyond the Slopes
What surprised me most was how much ski instructing prepared me for life off the mountain. The discipline I developed translated into my studies, relationships, and long-term goals. The patience I learned with beginners became patience with myself when chasing bigger dreams. The humility of teaching others reminded me that mastery is never final—there’s always something new to learn.
Ski instructing gave me more than a paycheck or a certification. It gave me a foundation for resilience, leadership, and passion—skills that continue to guide me wherever I go.
